Potential
by Fanficworm
Summary: Checkmate, in a way Sunshine didn't think possible, makes amends for tearing Sunshine's beloved photo. A sort of fatherson thing I wrote for Father's Day here in PNG.


**Disclaimer**: I wish they were mine, but they're not, so there. **_If_** _Ultimate Muscle_ were mine, you'd see a sappy romance between Terry and Trixie, everyone who appeared in the series will sing the "cow and rice" song in four part vocal style (and dance, too), and Checkmate would speak proper archaic English. That's right. It means _none_ of those "–eth" suffixes (the grammatically incorrect ones) placed on the end of almost every verb for my beau, just _proper_ archaic English.   


**Author's note**: You may wonder why Check isn't using the usual "thou" 's and "thee" 's. In archaic English, the transition between Middle English and Modern English, those words are used for either your peer group, someone younger than you, or someone older than you that you disrespect. Since Checkmate had a turning point during his match with Kid Muscle, I think he would view Sunshine with more respect than before, hence the "you" 's in here. 

**Potential **

_By Fanficworm _

Sunshine pulled out a strategically placed rock from a wall of the dim cave-like room. Well, strategically placed way back when Checkmate and Tyrannoclaw were toddlers, anyway. The rock was within reach for Sunshine—if he stood on his toes, that is—and pulled away from the wall it revealed a niche about the size of his head. Sunshine intended the niche to be a space for hiding his most treasured items away from his two protégés, though they could now easily reach it and take whatever he held in there. 

But what he held in there couldn't really be worth stealing to many other men. 

He let the rock fall to his side and inspected what lay in the hiding place: a small amount of money, some articles of clothing the boys had long since outgrown, and a dilapidated brown photo album; all of which gathered a thin layer of dust during the extended period of time he left the items alone. He stood higher, on the very tips of his toes, his goldenrod hands reaching for the photo album. Oh, he was getting too old for this. 

After about half a minute, his fingers grasped a familiar textured surface. Aha! There! He pulled it back and relaxed to a normal standing position, feeling grateful it didn't take longer for him to take the album. He winced. His toes hurt like crazy. How ballet dancers could stand that sort of thing regularly and for long periods of time, he wanted to know. 

"Least I got what I was looking for," he said, determined to focus on the positive side, smiling for good measure and then wiping the dust off its cover and placing it on the ground. Carefully, he put back the rock, minding his toes this time. 

All that work over that little photo album. The price one pays to see a memento of the past can be high sometimes, but it's worth it. He carefully looked through the pages, a sense of nostalgia whelming him, accompanied with a sense of loss. Loss that he could never relive those days, loss that just about everyone he photographed abandoned him to join the Muscle League, loss that he neglected to keep the negative of the only group photo, now torn into a million pieces and forever lost to him. 

He looked over the album's contents once more. Well, he had enough pictures of everyone. Maybe he could make a collage of it or something. Then he'd laminate it so that Checkmate couldn't tear that up like he did the group picture. No, he chided himself. He didn't want to ruin any more photos. That, and he doubted he'd ever have the artistic ability to make a collage. 

Besides, Checkmate was… well… since his match with Kid Muscle, Checkmate was a changed man. And Tyrannoclaw could sense it, too, as weird as that sounded. Sure, Check felt a little depressed at first, but who wouldn't be after losing their debut match on intergalactic television? But after that, he just _changed_. It was as if Kid Muscle had brainwashed him into becoming kinder, more considerate. This new Checkmate wouldn't rip up any more pictures of sentimental value, that was for sure. 

Still, Sunshine couldn't blame Checkmate for his actions. All teenagers rebel against their parents sooner or later. Sunshine said so himself. And Check had more than his fair share to rebel against. A childhood filled with perceived indifference and devoid of any visible trace of warmth was more than enough to rebel about. _Far_ more. 

"Master Sunshine?" 

Sunshine turned around to see Checkmate standing at the doorway. Actually, just _barely_ standing. _Leaning_ on the doorway would have been a more accurate description. The boy hadn't fully healed from his injuries yet, as the swollen, purple knee made painfully obvious. Sunshine frowned. "Checkmate, you are _not_ supposed to be up yet. Your knee's gotta heal and you need your rest." 

Checkmate limped in, regardless, forcing a smile, as Sunshine could see, but managing a grimace instead. The mental barriers must have been broken down pretty bad. Not counting his match with Kid Muscle, this was the first pain Checkmate showed since infanthood. "I thank thee for thy concern, Master Sunshine, but nay. I need the exercise." He spied the album. "Are those more photographs?" 

Sunshine quickly shut the album. "Yeah." He smirked. "Old people like me like to look at old photos. Makes us feel younger." 

Checkmate hung his head. "I am sorry." 

Sunshine frowned, knowing full well what Checkmate was sorry about. "Son, the dMp group photo is long gone, and don't think I didn't have it coming." He laid a hand on Checkmate's shoulder. "It's my fault I didn't train your heart as well as your body and mind, and that's what I got out of that." 

"Master Sunshine, 'twas by mine own actions and not yours that I tore your photograph into shreds and raised my hand towards you." To Sunshine's surprise, the chess set wrestler knelt down despite the bad knee. Kneeling down in itself was something he never did, and Sunshine knew him since shortly after Checkmate's birth. "I thought about what you said earlier, that I lack the heart of a true champion." 

He lowered his head more. "You are right. I do, and I wish to make amends." He reached into a hidden pocket in his costume and pulled out a rectangular piece of paper (newly laminated by the looks of it) and stood, offering it. "I wish for you to accept this as mine act of contrition." 

Sunshine slowly took the mysterious piece of paper. Was this what he thought it was? His throat clogged up slightly before he turned it over… 

It was! 

"My picture!" he exclaimed, his vision blurring slightly, a sign that tears were imminent. His picture, the one he carried around with him everywhere, the only group photo of the entire dMp, was somehow restored to look better than new and encased in a protective laminate shell. He looked to Checkmate for answers as to how on Earth this could be possible. "But how? I thought the one you tore was the only copy." 

Checkmate smirked, standing. He wagged his finger reminiscent of when Sunshine would reprimand him as an infant. "Nay, Master Sunshine. Do you remember when you spilled your coffee on yours and sent me to get a reprint?" He stopped wagging his finger and his smile broadened. "The woman accidentally made another copy, so I kept it in case another mishap occurred. The profit from mine action figure allowed me to have enough money to have it laminated." 

Sunshine wiped the tears that trickled down his face, unable to find any words to say. Checkmate looked hopefully at him. "Does this mean I have the potential to reform, Master Sunshine?" 

"You do, son," he choked. "You do." 


End file.
